Apologies for being a day late. Busy life, you understand.
In last week's episode, our intrepid Author Collector had fled the police, drove to Spain (don't use logic, there's none to be found here), kidnapped Morgan who is an author with an insane sparkly addiction (you should see her shoe/purse collection. Sparkalicious!), and by now has returned to the States (driving due to a fear of flying... well, not so much the flying, more the amount of pain you're in when you crash land from such heights). Now onto to this weeks adventures in Author Collecting.
The drive back to the States was mostly uneventful. I was able to keep Morgan quiet and co-operative by giving her a Bedazzler kit and some old purses that were in the stolen car. About halfway across the ocean, we did have to make a stop and get some sparkly shoes so she would stop being upset about the high waves. It took us a while but we eventually found ourselves in Canada. At one point, we took the Ice Road (yes, I know it is August but I wanted to see it for myself so they refroze it for me) because I do enjoy the scenic route to my destinations. A few highways and byways later, I pulled up in front a beautiful gothic Victorian house in the middle of a swamp.
“Fay! This is a kidnapping! Car’s waiting outside!”
A pale face framed by dark ringlets looked over the balcony and down to the front door where I stood. Somewhere between the car and the front door, I had changed my clothes from comfy pajamas pants and a t-shirt to a long gown that a Victorian witch would be jealous of. Layers of black lace and dark purple velvet, my own hair was layered in waves of long purple curls.
“Be right down! I’ll need to make a stop on the way to the cabin.”
Fay looked like a gothic romance writer’s wet dream. As she raced down the curved stairs, black silk robes trimmed in silver lace billowed around her. Fog swirled up the stairs to tickle at her slippered feet and from somewhere above us, a murder of crows called to the sudden moonlight that shone down on her. Dracula would have fallen in love with her.
With Morgan and Fay settled in the back, a King Arthur joke that fell flat, we were on our way. We turned down that one street, grabbed Willie (who insisted we bring the canoe since we were hitting the abandoned cabin) and then we were over the border into the States. Following Fay’s directions, we stopped by a library. I have no idea if it was the right library but it smelled right, old books and silence. I love that smell. I found the manic pixie who ran the library, tossed her in a burlap sack (since everyone knows pixies don’t mind this. Source: Peter Pan) and dragged her to the car. I gave the sack to Fay to hold who opened it and hugged her tiny best friend (being careful not to crush the pixie wings).
“To the cabin!”
For those of you wondering, the flatfoot copper is still trying to find the sun with a flashlight on the dark side of the moon. Maybe we’ll see him again next week.
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